Further advance being impossible, owing to uncut wire, the Battalion retired out of bombing distance from the German trench and started to dig in, fifty yards in front of our original trench. These operations occupied twenty minutes. The enemy maintained a very heavy barrage of shrapnel on the Sunken Road during the whole of this time. The only means of communication during this time, with the exception of one Company, to which the telephone wire was intact, was by runner. Communication with the Battalion on the left was completely lost. It was ascertained that this Battalion was reported to be in the village of Guillemont, and it was intended to make an attempt to get into touch with their right. Stokes Mortars were brought up and were ordered to destroy the barricade on the Sunken Road leading to Guillemont, with the idea of attacking and taking this point and which would have enabled an advance on the left to be covered. There was a great deal of delay in bringing up the Stokes Mortar ammunition, the difficulties of communication were great, and it made it extremely hard for orders to reach their destination. This delay gave the enemy a long period of rest, which was unfavourable to the success of any further enterprise.

The Stokes Mortars bombarded the barricade, but were not successful in damaging it. It was intended that a bombing party should assault at 12 noon, but the situation was seen to be quite hopeless for the success of such an enterprise.

Our artillery, in the meantime, kept up an intermittent bombardment for a long period. They were firing very short and our front line had to be cleared. It was with the greatest difficulty that the artillery were informed of this, which caused some casualties to the Battalion. It was decided that any further attack was impracticable and efforts were concentrated on improving the present position as far as possible and to render it easily defensible in the event of any hostile offensive. The Battalion was by this time greatly reduced in numbers and was also fatigued by the strain of the heavy fighting. There was a shortage of Officers. It was not known what had happened to the Battalion on the left, and although all effort was made to ascertain their position no information was obtainable. It was impossible to obtain accurate information, which made the situation worse. The remainder of the night was spent in trying to collect wounded, improve our original position, and clear the battlefield. At 3.55 a.m. on the 9th we were relieved by the 10th Liverpool Scottish and proceeded, sorely stricken and almost unmanned by the terrific strain of the recent fighting and the shambles around us, to bivouac south-west of Carnoy.

The Battalion arrived in small parties. Stragglers came in during the day. Captain Huthwaite, of the charmed life, wandering about like a distracted shepherd looking for his flock, collected a number of these and brought them in. A roll call was made with lamentable results, disclosing eight Officers killed, including the Commanding Officer, and nine wounded; 254 other ranks, including 48 killed and 206 wounded and missing. The Officers were:—

Killed.

Wounded.

The loss of the Commanding Officer was a stunning blow. Although he had only been with us six weeks his influence on the Battalion was marked and beneficent. We found ourselves guided by a firm hand, directed with understanding. It was not given to every regular Officer at that time to see eye to eye with the aspirations and latent qualities of the Territorial Army. Captain Jackson, our late Adjutant, had possessed this rare faculty and was ready to admit and proclaim that in some essential military respects, of which trench-digging was only one, the Territorial Army could more than hold its own. Colonel Swainson was another with this gift of insight, and with his regular experience, his knowledge of what to do, and perhaps more important, what not to do, the Battalion seemed set for a period of what can best be termed happy soldiering, when he met his untimely end. The Command now devolved upon Major G. B. Balfour.

For many days no recollection of these horrors was permitted to diminish the enthusiasm of the Division. Concerts were held nightly. On the bare slopes near Carnoy the infantry, worn out by their recent trials, engaged themselves in innocent relaxation.